Swim Deep
by transluciiiid
Summary: "You offer me escape as the world becomes more and more unsure. You are my relief." / AU / OOC (VERY)
1. Prologue

Prologue.

I have become an anomaly

Everything that I knew what whisked away before my eyes under the tide of others and their all but powerful whims.

Succumbed and unafraid, I sit alone at the bottom of my downfall

I can see nothing, my importance falling and fleeting with the wind.

I am no longer who I was. I am only a part of the silence, a bundle of white noise.

 _Word Count: 70_


	2. Chapter 1

I would always remember the first day. Everything was in its right place. It was raining, and I had just found another bout of sadness in the midst of my subconscious going back to where it had once been. Feeling normal barely scathed my reality as a possibility, and I found myself in a place that I thought I would never go back to again.

Home was a fire. The word 'break' stirred the blood that held the image of what I should have been. College was a practical investment, a wise choice for the common mind to pick and choose from what was an amiable future. Yet first semester proved the points that I was unafraid and not worthy of what the world could bring me in all of its wonder and demise. I decided to stop while I could, and pick up the pieces of who and what aided in the peak of my rebellious, yet mighty fall.

"Honey, you need a job."

The only words that came out of my mother's mouth since the verbal explosion of the night prior. My parents were far from ready to accept my choices, and they came with a new tactic—which meant the transformation of our relationship from familial to business. Rent and utilities were charged along with a blatant silent treatment, my father only speaking to me in instruction or the lightest of courtesy. After a week of sulking and lament, I decided to go for a not-so-random walk.

A face, a familiar sound. I needed a reminder of why I made the choices that gave me the space I thought I needed. My faded grey zip-up hoodie was damp by the time I had made my way to the front of the shop—a swell of memories and emotions alike flooding the basin of my mind. He wasn't in, thankfully. Just walking in the door seemed to fix a small piece of who I had become, by simply refreshing the scene of my best self. The music inside was blaring, per usual. Howl—the owner and manager—manned the register on a stool while propping his legs up on the glass display case chock full of skateboarding stickers collected over the years. He looked at me directly before trying to disguise a goofy grin, playing off his own signature greeting.

"Welcome to Flip, the best skate shop on the west coast. Are you new in town?"

I playfully hit him on the arm. He pulled me into a massive hug, nearly lifting me off the ground.

"I've missed you college girl. How was first semester? Did you party-hardy?"

My face shifted into an uncomfortable expression. "A little too hard, if we're being real."

Sequences in the form of flashbacks plagued my thoughts, memories of my first party and all of the rebellious choices that followed overtaking the current. The one person who went along for the ride was no longer relevant—as my recent revelation caused me to purge everyone out of my personal life. I wouldn't care if I ever saw him again. He was the epitome of danger, causing damage with whoever wasn't wrapped around his slightly calloused finger.

"Well, what are you doing back around here?"

I took a long pause before answering his question. Telling him the truth was a given, but with Howl, everything should just be fun and excitement. He was never good at serious.

"I need a job. Just until I can convince my parents I'm not a lost cause. I screwed up royally, and now I have to pay rent to my landlord, who also represents the role of my tight-wad father. I swear he hates me."

Howl smiled and then shrugged. "The gig is yours. You always have employment at this store, as long as I have anything to say about it. There's not many people I trust with keeping up the shop, and all the part-time help here spends their spare time blazing in the back alley. Stoners are great, but not so good for customer service, you know?"

I sighed in relief before I gave him another hug, happy that my high-school summer job built a lasting friendship. "You won't regret this Howl. I can work any hours you assign, and I really don't mind running the place on my own."

"You won't be working alone, at least for the most part."

For some reason, the air got thicker after he finished his sentence. I imagined the worst, my male partner in teenage crime showing up for the late shift, haunting me with the decisions I made with him pressuring me all the while. College changed us. We were the ones in love before the rest of the world would agree—the match made to the beat of a Pink Floyd ballad. But one day, we went from being were to weren't. He left as if it was a sensible choice, detaching himself from me when I needed him most. The ever-present group of new friends wasn't enough. He had to abandon me for a new kind of love, reminiscent of synthetic, shiny plastic. The boy I knew was gone. Only a hollow shell remained.

"Who else is scheduled?" I tried to be nonchalant, but my eyes spread fear beyond my control.

"A boy I met at the skate park along the pier one day. He's a good kid. He looks like he shreds some major street, so I thought I'd give him a chance and let him put his employee discount to good use."

Nodding, I leaned against the display case. I had to steady myself after that nearly-catastrophic piece of information. "So he's just working the same shift I am?"

"Exactly. Think of it as a really sweet arrangement. He works inventory while you run the floor, and eventually you'll switch out. That is, after you train him how to work with customers. That's not a problem, is it?"

He must have taken my continence as a miscommunication for dread. I was cheerfully out of character, so I perked up in his apparent change in tone.

"There's no problem! I just can't thank you enough for saving my ass. I owe you one."

I swayed to the opening of Floating Vibes, a Surfer Blood song that was one of Howl's personal favorites on the shop's Monday mix.

"No problem Blue. Just let me know if you need anything else. Now, if you excuse me, I'm closing up shop for a lunch run. I didn't even eat breakfast this morning."

After a small wave and a slightly larger giggle, I was back on the boardwalk. Howl wasn't the most responsible considering his age, but that was what made him great. I loved it that he called me Blue. The very ring of that nickname almost made me forget how bad things were—the color of the ocean taking me out back into the past. The water swirled angrily under the grey horizon of the sky, beating against the aged cylinders of wood that created the pier itself. The mock driftwood gave a clear view of the ocean, the only place I could now call home. The beach was the prologue to my teen years, raising hell and shredding waves as if we were invincible in our own craft. My parents made me pull back after a tangle of getting caught—my surfboard traded in for a longboard. Skating was surfing without the water, which was a worthy substitute after a change at home affected more than just a beloved hobby.

It's been the same since I turned fourteen with them, fights and revelations always repeated, like a vicious cycle. My excuse to rebel was always a poorly supported one, but I always had a co-conspirator to push me across the blurred line between possibility and mischief. Now that he was gone, I was holding out for the light that would never come. I visualized a great sunshine that would come down and around the shoddy remains of my life, and rescue me as a victim of my own invention. Dreams were the only comfort I had. The majority of support systems I had on my side were either under the influence of social extremes or the barrel of a smoking gun—watching closely for one wrong move. As I walked home, the shape of the landmark I left behind looked like it could swallow me whole. I thought that it could free me from all negative emotion, and set me free under the spell of a happy accident. Maybe someday, I thought. But for now, I had things to fix.

* * *

"I got a job. I start tomorrow."

I looked up from my plate at dinner later that night, my parents ceasing their small talk to look at me, smile, and continue their mundane conversation.

"Where at?"

My father took a small pull of wine from his glass while he stared at me blankly-anticipating an answer.

I must have killed a considerable amount of time tracing the edge of my pasta with my fork, trying to keep the pristine white edge of the plate safe from the mess of cream sauce only millimeters away.

"You know the skate shop right next to Talia's on the boardwalk? Howl hired me back without a second thought."

I tried a friendly face to get anything but a blank expression out of my father, but after a full minute of trying, nothing came.

"So working with the three weirdos on the boardwalk is a viable occupation after making so many mistakes. Good move."

I dropped my fork and exhaled deeply, crossing my legs in preparation for my defense.

"But I work there, so now there's four."

My jaw clenched with the sound of an exasperated sigh from the latter end of the table.

"Korra, watch it."

I sat still. Due to the fact that I didn't know what would happen next.

"I sent you away to that school for you to do one thing. One simple task. To get a degree, and not throw your future away. But you couldn't even handle that."

"Dad, I…"

"I have a standard that I would like for the rest of this family to live by, and since you can't meet it, you're on your own. Even though that is the case, I expect you to at least have the decency to pay your rent on time."

I looked at him with a special kind of sorrow, accidental tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.

"Tonraq. Please don't be so hard on her. You are her father, for God sakes."

I didn't want to be upset. I tried so hard to keep my emotions at bay, but the only agents of comfort were too far away for me to access. I found myself on the verge of a breakdown, at the expense of my father's severe disappointment.

"She broke my trust, Senna. I'm not her father. I'm only her landlord."

The last phrase out of his mouth rang in my ears while I laid on my sheets, my eyes turned towards the window. The horizon past the dunes of sand were an inky black, definition castaway among the few visible stars. A place for me to hide. That was what I needed.

I reached under my mattress and pulled out my closest chance at a piece of mind-a weathered, unused journal. My father told me the greatest piece of advice on the eve of my sixteenth birthday. His writing was his life's success, and he was convinced I had the same fate.

 _Words are in your blood. One day, they will all come out of your hands at will when the time is right. I won't have to force you to write-because I know it's already in you._

I admired him when he was in the middle of writing a novel. I learned a lot about him during those times. He was an intellectual-loose, brilliant thoughts swirling in the air as easily as the smoke from his favourite brand of cigarettes. Our relationship was never constant, but it was simple.

The sun was unravelling in my own world, and the last of the light was quickly fading. That was how it felt to submerge into darkness-to fall into the deep abyss of eternal lament. I was being melodramatic, but things were bad. Worse than they had ever been before. I had lost control, and the weight upon my shoulders would make it harder to get a point of content. I wrote a small passage on the first blank page I saw. It felt so strange to try to express the great mass of emotion I felt, although I knew my words were the only thing that would aim true from the wound in my heart. After the light was blown out, I attempted a deep, dreamless sleep.

 _Day One_

 _I stood in the darkness, peering at my small light. Wondering, dreaming, doubting. I realised I am not a part of the light. I am the emptiness, and it has consumed me to my core._

 _I'm sorry Dad._

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed! Review!**

 _Word Count: 2188_


	3. Chapter 2

"Since when do you get here before me?"

I had been leaning against the front window of the shop for about five minutes when Howl walked up with the keys in his hand, shrugging of the remnants of last night's sleep. He looked as if something was tugging at him in his mind. But I knew that he would never say it.

"Since my dad started waking me up and taking me to work. He's keeping tabs on me. Which means, no car."

He put his arm around me while we squeezed through the door. "It's not so bad. At least you get to hang with me for now.." He flicked my nose while I rolled my eyes. I headed towards the back to secure my things, and store them in the lockers that I defiled with the one that shall never be named.

"I kept it the exact same. I had a feeling that you would come back one day, and I would never admit it to anyone else, but I missed you kid."

My fingers traced the etchings into the steel and the residue of stickers from skate brands and music festivals. The memories were all so distant now, like I lived them in a dream, or saw them in a film—too long ago to remember. I would always think of his face, his temperament in my presence. But I couldn't slip under his spell. Not when he's away, or ever again.

"Thanks again for doing this Howl. I owe you one."

I raised my shoulders before stepping out into the main floor, my body turned towards the front.

"You won't owe me anything as long as you stay at your post. Help should be coming in a few minutes."

Walking in my planned direction, I reached the register. I stared at the clock when the music started. Time must have skipped a beat at a certain moment, because a new individual was encroaching on my familiar grounds. He glided through the front door on a skateboard—completely oblivious to everything. I got a better view of him when he stepped out of the sunlight pouring through the window.

His eyes were the first thing I noticed. A piercing amber, they found themselves matched to mine before I could begin to prepare. I had never seen him in my life, but I felt as if he was sent for me directly. To change something, to be a confidant. He walked to the front register, and I put on my best siren-like eyes. He was beautiful, and I was no longer confused, only dazed with the version of someone else before me.

"Hello." He shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Hey."

A simple greeting was all that I could come up with on the spot, but I didn't want to give too much away.

"I'm Mako."

He had an accent that I couldn't quite place, but his features threw me miles away. With a tall; broad build, he towered over me by at least fourteen inches. I was fairly short for a girl—standing at 5'2 to be exact—and I had to repress the sudden urge to ask him a heap of irrelevant questions. I felt like such a girl, due to the juxtaposition that I had not even a hint of sense in what to do.

I slowly smiled before snapping back to reality. "Do you need help with anything? Around the store, I mean."

He laughed and shook a little. The movement looked out of character for a person his size.

"Nah. I work here too."

It didn't register until he walked into the back room, and my eyes grew wider with understanding. Amber Eyes was the new help? As incredulous as it seemed, something ripped through me then. I found myself knocking on Scotty's door, entering the office that I had barged in more than once.

"Why are you back here?"

He had a virtual computer game pulled up over a window of office software, knitting his brows like I had interrupted him actually working.

"Why didn't you tell me the new guy was…I mean…?"

I sounded more frustrated than angry, and especially more annoying than anything. It was certainly out of my usual behavior to stress over something that had nothing to do with me, but I wasn't sure if I was upset or flustered.

"Was what? Something to look at?" I sighed.

"He's also Australian, pretty much fresh off the plane, and comes in on the weekdays after he gets out of school. Did I mention that he's an excellent worker?" **(I know Mako isn't BUT let's pretend :))**

"No better than me, right?" I was quiet after that.

He lifted his eyebrows before slowly moving them back down, hinting at something in a hopefully sarcastic way.

"Please, don't corrupt him. I really don't need another teenager with every intention to rebel against local institutions. You were bad enough back in the day before you started hanging around that Thompson kid."

Of course he had to bring him up. "That is not his name, and just don't bring him up. We don't talk anymore."

I conjured a serious face, eventually coercing Howl to back off. "Fine. Now please, be a doll and get back to work. And be civil."

The door shut behind me, and I was back out on the floor. Other than a few people milling around the store, everything was calm. There was no sign of the newest addition to Howl's employment team, and I was honestly relieved. Until I heard a small shatter emerge from the west end. My feet led me to the site of the accident before I realized what had come over me.

"Crap."

His voice was no louder than a whisper, but I exhaled a small laugh regardless. He was hunched over a disassembled shelf, which had broken in six large, shattered shards of aquamarine tempered glass. With eyes wide, he looked at me without saying a word.

"So what happened here?"

My tone was on the borderline of casual and playful. Howl had told me to be civil, so I assumed that was a code word for nice.

"Uh…well…I was trying to change out the shelf with the one that wasn't as weak as that one but then the glass slipped and I'm bloody clumsy—"

I kneeled at his side, joining him at floor level. He jumped at my sudden movement, inching away before easing back to where he sat. It was strangely amusing that he was flustered.

"It's okay. Howl was due to replace these shelves a few years ago, and he's been procrastinating it ever since. Sometimes I think he forgets how old he is."

He smiled and kept eye contact with me for a little too long. I could detect that he was a little awkward, but I could see that it fit in the patchwork of his personality.

"Thanks."

"No worries." I looked down at the shards created by his mistake—and realized one of them had the finest hint of a red hue. I followed the trail that eventually formed into dots, and then a quick line that led to his arm.

"You're bleeding."

Without a second thought, I gingerly grabbed him by his shoulder and lightly pulled him towards the back. There was a sorry excuse for a bathroom near the lockers, which would serve as my makeshift first aid area. I had no idea why I was so interested in helping him, so I blamed it on a motherly instinct. It must have looked odd—the two of us headed to the back led by me, the shorter one.

* * *

There was certainly more blood and less of a wound, but I cleaned and covered it quickly while he watched me silently. The jumpiness was gone, and a much more comfortable person allowed me to work

"There. Sorry we don't have any boring bandages. I'm pretty sure whoever stocked this kit was high out of their mind."

I examined a pack of cigarettes and a small bottle of vodka before closing the dust-covered box, shaking my head with disbelief.

Mako ran his fingers over the two parallel bandages on his arm, shrugging before a sheepish grin crept across his face.

"I like them. Kinda trippy."

I barely laughed. He didn't say much. Yet the idea of him saying any more ruined his character in my mind.

"I'm Korra, by the way. I don't think I got the chance to introduce myself earlier."

He put out his hand and I shook it haphazardly.

"Nice to meet you."

I could tell he was biting back a smile.

"The pleasure is all mine."

The blatant contradiction throughout his actions constantly threw me for a loop, and I literally couldn't keep up. His face said so much more than he could voice-the very quiver of his lip writing silent phrases into unwritten verse.

We worked side by side for the rest of my shift. He stacked and folded while I checked out regular customers, small conversations ensued as he established a rhythmic pace. I prohibited myself from looking over at him more than twice every hour. I didn't want to appear like I was curious to learn more, granted my mind was parched for even a snippet of knowledge on the gentle giant crouched in the corner. The things I knew for certain seemed the most bizarre. Those dazzling eyes set in my line of vision held their own agenda. They had small, invisible holes on the side of my being. I could feel him watching me, weighing in on something that only he knew. The logical reason behind his surveillance struck me dumb-leaving an open tunnel flexible for the dreamy side of my mind's eye.

Minutes melted into hours, the night seeping in, pulling down the sun while the colours in the sky called each other's names to streak across a stretched blue canvas for a limited time. The extinguished lights from across the shore caused a paused danced in the dark- filaments glowing a blood orange in the mouths of their glass cages.

"The cash in the register is counted, and everything that needed to be winded down is away for the night."

I poked my head into Howl's office, the light from his window barely strong enough to expel the majority of shadows.

"Cool. Thanks for your help today Blue. I really appreciate you."

He looked sincere then, startling me in the way that I thought was only minutely possible.

"No problem. That's what I'm here for."

Walking out of his office with a crooked smile, he stopped me with a word.

"If you ever need anything, just let me know. I know your folks aren't totally with you working here. If you need a place to crash or just someone to talk to, I'm your guy."

He was always level headed, but he had never reached out to me in that way before.

"Noted. See you, Howl."

* * *

I didn't want to overdo it with my response. I was beyond grateful, but I learned that a sudden well of emotion is never the safe path to take.

I realised that I hadn't even flinched when he called Blue once again. Despite the fact I liked it, the nickname seemed to be a constant reminder of what was until just before. Maybe things tainted in regret could transform into things forgotten, so far back that they become myth.

The water's shimmer dissipated into a slim ray of moonlight. I decided to walk home so that I could take in scenes from the dark, full of mystery and strangers-magic in full bloom.

The house was dimly lit by the over-enthusiastic rays of light emitted from the torch-like lamps outside, set like guards on the either side of the door. I had assumed that my parents had already checked into their bed-the house soaking in pitch dark while my keys clicked in the lock.

Mako was the first thing on my mind when I settled down under my sheets.

My analytical nature always got the best of me before I drifted off into the unknown of my intentional unconsciousness. I had a habit of making things much bigger than they appeared, like a mirror set on the side of a vehicular steed-objects and people distorted out of hindsight and into plain view.

I gave something up today. Whether it was a negative circumstance impressed on humanity itself or a new wave of something greater, I was intrigued for reasons beyond my own self-loathing. Maybe I was theatrical in some fashion. But something stuck within me.

I had found my snippet redemption in the eye of my own self-loathing in the eye of my own personal version of rock bottom. I felt something other than empty for the first time in weeks.

I didn't want to give this up.

And I knew I wouldn't.

* * *

 **Hello! Thank you to all who actually read this. The story is just now getting set up, but I hope you stick around to find out the other happenings around the skate shop. It's worth it, I promise. :)**


	4. Chapter 3

A blue line.

That was what separated him and me.

The painted divide on the worn floorboards symbolized more than a stylistic choice. We subconsciously danced around the reality of facing one another for days, creating a fine-tuned regression to a complex balance.

I watched closely and carefully as the weeks stretched on—the curious glimmer in those eyes ever-present. He was always civil and sometimes even chivalrous, which raised more than one flag in my mind. I found myself thinking about our previously crossed paths more and more when I was alone past the sun's fall, huddled in my reflection of the day.

As I began to close the shop early for Howl due to maintenance one evening, Mako seemed to hang around for no reason at all. I could see his face in the reflection of the front counter—his eyes shifting from item to item as he hovered from ten feet away.

I closed the left panel of the door that was speckled glass. Reaching for the right, I heard a hesitant voice rise from his location.

"Do you want to…do something?"

I turned to face him—confused; more surprised than anything I was feeling. Before I could open my mouth, he added another statement to his question.

"We've been working together for about a month now, and I realized I don't know you all that well."

He had an extremely valid point. This is the most I had heard come out of his mouth directly to me in 30 days—since he cut his arm—besides the brief exchanges with Howl about scheduling or whatever else. I was set on replying—but he started talking again.

"It's just that you've been working double shifts. And I thought that you could use a night out. So what do you say?"

Although a slight annoyance rose to the fact that he kept cutting me off, it faded faster than it formed. I knew it wasn't intentional. Home wasn't exactly the best place for leisurely laughs. One night would no harm.

"Sure."

His face lit up with something different then. Even if it was only for a fraction of a moment, I caught it with the absence of a blink. I quickly surveyed the shop for any unfinished tasks, grabbing my bag and the keys in one foul swoop.

I shut the door and attempted to lock it, dropping the set of keys in the meantime. He quickly retrieved the bunch from the doorstep.

"I got it. The only reason I remember is because of the hot pink key cap."

He secured the door with ease and placed the key ring on the tip of my finger. Sure enough, the harsh hot pink had a much louder visual scream than its other close contenders.

"So…" He said it quietly, drawing out the end.

I looked up at him, matching his pace as we walked down the boardwalk.

"Where do you want to go?"

He turned to face me while his question hung in the open air. The sun had nearly set, the dusty twilight of the day shown proud with smoky purple hues. Being outside at this time was one of the best—the divide of night and day unsure of itself as it changed its mind from one minute to the next.

"Anywhere. It's been so long since I've been out. Work and home is all I see these days."

He looked down and then aired a small smile.

"That's a bit sad, you know. Everyone deserves a bit of free time."

I silently agreed with him, even though I wasn't sure if I deserved it.

"That's very true. Although most don't get the time off they deserve."

He gave a full laugh after I spoke. It was a sound that was pure, something that couldn't be duplicated. Nearly beautiful. A peculiar boon.

"Why so serious, Edgar Allan Poe? I can tell you really need to lighten up."

I playfully hit him on the arm, biting my lip in the midst of a close-lipped smile. I had no idea if I was or wasn't being anything of that matter. I had been leaving and coming in alone silently, only with my thoughts to aid me in interest. Other than the liberal drawl I kept up with my father to work in the mornings, talking was out of the question.

"I'm not that serious. Or at least I hope I'm not…maybe this was a good idea."

"Maybe." He faced me once more, looking down again shortly after. The driftwood of the boardwalk had a seemingly blue tint, allowing the scene to look much more dramatic in the hazy evening versus the basic light of day.

"I think I have the perfect place. Just promise me that you'll keep your eyes on anything but forward, or at least try. I know there's not much to look at, but I want you to be at least a little surprised."

He acted as if we had been properly acquainted for much longer than we actually had, which gave a particular warming to my already skipping heart. I did as he said and attempted to keep the conversation light. He suddenly stopped after a while, confusing me right after I had asked a question.

"We're here."

The sidewalk that we had drifted on to from the end of the boardwalk turned into yet another pier. The strip was lit up with an array of flashing golden lights and the noise of happy, screaming children and their slightly less enthused parents. Neon hues of stuffed animals and food made me made me unexpectedly giddy. Small patches of people stood around vendors, taking in the utter wonder of the moment. He had led me to a fair, and I was all smiles.

"This is amazing."

I could barely contain myself. I couldn't remember the last time I had been mildly delighted, let alone amazed. I was over the moon with the sheer beauty of it all.

"I had seen it a few times on the way to work, but I never got a chance to come visit up close. So I thought now was the perfect time."

My smile had infected him with the same kind of happiness. We walked through the gate, taking everything in.

"I haven't been to one of these since I was like, 8. I remember my da—"

"Hey now. I never thought I would see you around these parts again."

I turned to my right and saw that it was a familiar face that had interrupted my sentence. She was wearing cat-eye sunglasses that matched her equally green piece of chewing gum, which she blew into bubbles before slowly popping them.

"Asami?"

I stepped closer to see it if it was the girl that I knew behind the chartreuse shades. Mako quietly filed behind me. For someone of his height, he had an uncanny ability to step lightly.

"Blue crush. What have you been up to? Out of school so soon? Not that I'm interested, university is for the mentally departed. Except you, of course."

I laughed and reached over to give her a small hug. Asami was the kind of person that didn't have to do anything to attract the majority of the masses. Everyone wanted to talk to her.

Sardonic and full of idiosyncrasies, she was gorgeous in the 80s pop-punk way. Complete with vintage one-of-a-kind's and shiny black hair. She had changed up her look since I had last seen her, her locks now cropped close to her face with an eternal wet look. There was nothing she couldn't pull off.

"So you work here?"

She reached for a piece of my hair, distractedly playing with it as she replied.

"Yep. I'm a carny now. It's not nearly as romantic as it seems. Better than being broke though. Who's the hunk?"

She was referring to Mako, who had suddenly gone quiet in the instance of my conversation with someone else. He smiled nervously and said nothing, ending with a small wave. I thought it was darling that he was so awkwardly present.

"This is Mako. We work together at Howl's shop. He was just showing me around tonight."

She made a sly face, resting her head on the backs of her hands. I had a general understanding of when she said something in her mind, and refrained from saying it aloud. She looked at Mako and then to me-rising to a full stance.

"Well you kids have fun. If the boss man finds me talking to guests he'll have my head for sure. Good seeing you Blue. Make sure you prepare for me to come by your place at any time. Now that you're back, we can finally hang out."

She reached out for another hug and I obliged, backing up and standing next to Mako shortly after. We walked past her booth and continued in silence for a second after we were out of sight.

"How did you meet her?"

He looked to me again, appearing to be genuinely interested in what I had to say.

"She was one of my best friends in high school. We were both in a group of unique kids, but we bonded. There's just something about her that's sort of incredibly interesting. It's hard to explain. But she is an amazing friend, and quite a character."

With his eyelids shut, he nodded his head and exhaled.

"That's really cool. I wish I had interesting friends."

I laughed at his remark.

"I'm sure you have tons of awesome friends. More than me, anyway."

I looked at him, balancing a smile with a look of sincerity.

"Well, not exactly. I just have three friends that are pretty much like my brothers at this point. We all depend on each other." **(Bo and Mako aren't siblings in this series, btws)**

Surprised at his answer, I stopped mid-stride. He paused along with me-looking for something more than just a reaction.

"That's really sweet, actually. Look who's being deep now."

I giggled while he showcased a face that didn't want to teeter on the borderline of cursory conversation and mushy melodrama.

"Anyway," He changed the subject before I could tease him any further. "Why did you start working back at the shop?"

When he asked, my mind went blank. I wasn't sure of the reason why. Other than the financial cushion it offered, I supported the theory of subconsciously holding on to what I once loved and lived for. Nothing was the same after what happened only months before. I was now only drifting, fighting to make a new start in a well made up of memories-chock full with regret.

"I need the money for school." I lied. "First semester was pretty pricey, so I decided to take a break so I could save up. I figured it was the best option. What about you?"

I didn't want to sound like I was overbearing by revealing certain things about my life. Sometimes it was much easier to keep quiet instead of the grand tell-all. He gave me a blank stare before remembering my query, quickly answering after the fact.

"I wanted to get some extra pocket money, and maybe buy a new guitar. And money is always a good thing to have." **(oh yeah and he's musical)**

He twisted his mouth in an odd way after he finished his statement, as if he was reacting to an inside joke he had with himself.

"A guitar? So I'm assuming you play."

Nodding, he answered. "You are correct. I'm…"

I looked over at him with a playful face, taking in the sight of his cheeks growing pink with a hesitant answer. He could be so bashful with the strangest things. But it was added to his character in a way that was admirable and even congenial-equivalent with the flat sound of a humble majesty.

"I'm in a band with my best mates, same ones I mentioned earlier. We all decided that we wanted to move to California to take a shot at becoming big, and start our lives away from home. To make a long story short, we all have odd jobs to cover the cost of living six months later. And we've only played one gig at a bar in the sketchy part of LA. Not exactly a dream come true."

He shook out a breath of what seemed to be lament. He silently asked me to keep walking with him, my left arm barely brushing his as I moved out of the way for other bodies to pass by. He almost seemed startled by the encounter-his irises suddenly shocked bright with a nearly bright yellow. I saw, but ignored it.

"Well, life is full of curveballs. That's what makes it interesting. Seems like a lot of fun though. Where's home?"

He slowed his pace, meeting my gaze. "Sydney. Pretty much a world away."

Howl's word on Mako seemed true. Although, I was far from surprised.

"Wow. Almost like another planet," I remarked. "Do you like it there?"

Displaying a sheltered grin, he shrugged.

"Home is home. I miss my family more than anything else."

I sensed that the subject was of the tender, sensitive type. Before I could react in my own way, he said something of a totally different nature. Observing his features in the glow of circular lights-he appeared nearly unspoiled by the heavy aspects of his thoughts. He was so conscious of his actions. And it made me wonder how he made such a thing into a habit.

"Would you like to do anything? We've made it to the end of boardwalk."

Night had fallen by now, the sky a murky deep blue, offset by a number of stars. All that remained of the stretch was an unoccupied driftwood bench. It was secluded in its own way as if the surroundings were made in honour of its presence. Lights tapered along wooden posts decorated the platform, giving the spot a nearly cinematic edge.

"I'm up for anything. You should choose."

I gave up a choice for the betterment of a developing friendship.

"You can't say no to anything I choose though. That's the only rule."

I signaled a silent agreement with my nodding head, trailing slightly behind him as he led the way.

"That'll be $10.50."

The operator looked to either of us for payment with a scowling eye. He had to be at least in his upper fifties, somewhat distressed about working in a theme park for his chosen profession. I started rummaging through my bag as a force of habit, but Mako had already taken care of it by the time I had found my wallet.

"You didn't have to do that."

I peaked at him through my now falling bangs, which had fallen from behind my ear when I searched through my bag. He tucked his wallet in his back pocket, holding open the gate to the attraction before me.

"I know. But I offered to show you around, remember?"

Hardly exhaling I walked forward, looking up to see a radically sparkling Ferris wheel-bulbs of various colours working in harmony to create an array of lit designs. I thought about how distracted I must have been while passing the corner to miss such a relic of marvel.

Once we were secured in the ride and the lift began, time seemed to melt away. Being above and absent from the ground below had a comforting effect, with only reassuring looks from Mako as a support. We seemed to have an understanding of when silence was more than enough. Only our shifting eyes would meet and occasionally cross in muted verse, substituting the need for voiced conversation.

The ride halted to a stop exactly twice. Once at the top, and another for the exit. We strolled out of the gate and promenaded around the other vendors we hadn't seen before. After a deliberation as to why a specific food should not be bought by said person, the lone driftwood bench was suddenly occupied.

"You don't have to do that. I'm going to pay you back."

I shook my head and he laughed, shaking his head.

"It was two dollars. It's not a big deal."

I examined the fried dough on the plate. It really did resemble a miniature elephant ear, willowy and broad in its solidified shape. I looked over the edge of the barrier to the sea. It seemed unusually calm at such a late hour-high tide a silent thief in the night, swallowing shells and creatures alike.

Time skipped ahead yet again. Sitting and talking about various things, we floated away on a tangent of our own. It was easy to do. We were on the same page in a way. His life just beginning and mine restarting after an all-time low. He said nothing of it-but we both knew.

"The boardwalk is closing in five minutes."

A small man appeared seemingly out of nowhere, looking to us both when he approached, yelling from 7 feet away. We looked at each other and stood at the same time, rising out of the remnants of our conversation now past.

Walking out of the archway that was once lit, we watched the lights go out in unison-leaving thousands of orange filaments behind.

"Well, this is me."

He walked closer to a faded yellow Mustang convertible that had to be decades old. I would have commented, but I decided that it fit him nicely.

"Tonight was fun. I guess I'll see you at work then."

I started walking the worn path to my residence six miles down the road. Something was refreshing about the atmosphere of the purity of night. It comforted me. I felt we both had a lot in common.

"Wait!" Mako was at my side in seconds. "Do you need a ride? I can take you home."

His eyes were almost luminous in the moonlight. I realised I had a fascination with their changes and variation in tones, every mood and reaction unique to the slot in time.

"I like walking. It gives me time to think. Thank you for offering."

He understood and backed away, stopping once more before stopping his car.

"Be safe."

"Of course. See you."

I turned and continued on my way. Consumed. That was the word that rang in my ears when I backtracked over the past month of my life. Tortured by the thoughts that shrouded themselves in the shadows of my subconscious. Thinking was the only action on my list as of late, and I needed to create an exit before the hole was too deep.

The constant dark of my mood was a symbol of the lunacy festering in the back of my mind. Contrived by emotion, I was a victim of my own creation.

If only my escape was a daydream away.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed! Review!**


	5. Chapter 4

Stirring in bed the next day, I sat up perplexed.

It was the first weekend that I had off since I started back at the shop. I felt specifically unproductive, yet blissfully unaware of the responsibilities that were formally mine—temporarily given to someone else.

In the natural light of morning, the house was peacefully still. Even with the renovations that updated fixtures and furniture, the vintage vibe remained. This house was my haven of nineteen years—my sanctuary kept up the rug-clad stairs. Despite the good and bad, the walls witnessed all. The lone keeper of the family secrets. My stagnant protector. Which could neither fight nor flight.

The kitchen still smelled of flowery tea and breakfast bread, meaning my mother had left not too long before. I pulled open the door of the refrigerator, blindly taking out a pitcher of juice. Strawberry pomegranate. She would always make it fresh, because she knew it was my favorite. The crushed fruit in the clear glass seemed to directly contract the rest of the stark white kitchen, as if it was staged for dramatic effect. I relished in the taste of something so familiar. Maybe some things would never be different.

Before I could latch on to another thought, a slow three part knock reverberated through the front door. I was cradling the knob before I knew it, finding a leaning Asami in the doorway. Her plaid skirt slightly moved in the open air—her rather flashy silver earrings twisting in the wind.

"Miss me?"

She let herself in when I moved aside. Spinning in a half circle, she turned back to me.

"Your parents really upped the place when you left. It looks like a hotel in here."

I laughed, walking back to the kitchen. "You should see the bathroom."

With boot-clad feet dangling from the island, she watched me prepare my own breakfast, reaching in various cabinets for a specific mixture of foods. Her legs were bare, purposely ill-equipped for the time of year.

"So what was that last night?"

Her voice was nearly imposing a suspicious tone. As if I was the suspect in interrogation.

"I told you already. He was just being friendly."

I didn't even have to look at her to know that she was making a face based on the hundreds of conversations we shared before. She was prying again. For one sole reason I couldn't even begin to understand.

"Did he pay?"

I was standing in front of her now, precipitously interested in the fruit in my bowl of granola.

"Why would that matter?"

She snapped her fingers and grabbed my attention, her light green eyes determined to express a new point.

"With boys, everything matters. From actions to emoji's, the double meanings live on. You of all people should know that."

I shook my head no, despite the fact that my consciousness wanted to agree with all of my being. I was the first one to analyze a pause in a greeting or a specific choice in wording. But I didn't want to impress my usual standards on something that was so new. Things were changing, and I was also in the process.

"Whatever Blue. In the end, you know I'm usually right. Are you done?"

My hunger quickly subsided and I was nearly at the bottom of my breakfast. A distraction was the culprit in this case, my food gone before my eyes.

"I'm going to help you get dressed. We're going out."

She put my bowl in the sink and pulled me up to my room. My bed was still unmade—the only untidy thing in my catalog clean room.

"It always freaked me out how clean you were. Are you sure you're not a robot?"

Leafing through objects in my closet, I pulled out a pair of dark wash jeans.

"Shut up, Asami."

I told her to keep busy while I went to do a number of odd things, bathing included.

After a quick shower, I found her sitting on the seal of my middle window. She seemed mesmerized by the pale coacting colors of the vacant beach below. Her red lips barely apart as she inhaled the freshness of the scene with closed eyes. Adorned with lacquered liner, she called out to me.

"This view is great. I get why you stay inside now."

I rolled my eyes when I pulled on my knit top, shaking out my hair when she came closer. We were out the door within five minutes, finding my mother in the drive unloading her car.

"Korra, do you think you could help me put the groceries in—oh! Hello Asia!"

My expression went from alarmed to unsure. The terms on outings were never made clear, and I was caught in the middle of leaving without a word.

"Hello Senna. My name has been Asami since I was seven. It's great to see you again."

I glared at her in the height of her boldness. She wasn't afraid of anything. At least from what I had seen.

"Oh, right. Asami. I'm sorry dear. Asia always stuck with me for some reason."

My mother smiled at us both.

"I was about to show Korra something a few miles up in town. Just for old time's sake. Is that okay?"

She smiled coy, although her tone mimicked genuine. Asami was the master of trickery and trepidation.

"Of course! Just be back by dinner. You can join us if you'd like Asami."

We continued down the path, turning around once more to my surprisingly calm mother.

"That sounds lovely, but I have somewhere to be in a few hours. I'll bring your daughter back in one piece."

I was shocked with the result, another strand of vocal commentary thrown after us when we started on our way.

"Alright. And Asami, you can always call me Mrs. Zaman ."

Swallowing my reaction, I looked back to my mother, proud to see that her personality hadn't been overshadowed by the radical depth of my father's.

We made it to the makeshift sidewalk, continuing down the hill to the boardwalk and beyond, passing the shops and stands offering a smorgasbord of freshly caught and picked goods. It was a classic Saturday along the shores.

"If you think it's bad now, just imagine tourist season during the summer. We'll have to start charging for air at the theme park."

She looked ahead, reading my mind through her tar black shades. We kept going further and further down. I was about to ask where she was headed, but my question was answered before I could even ask.

There was an abandoned lot near the industrial shipyard that had been turned into somewhat of a makeshift turf for skateboarding. With steep wooden ramps and metal banisters, it was an amateur's paradise. A number of individuals shredded the course with ease—others trying to land tricks on the concrete to the side with onlookers clearly in awe.

* * *

My heart abnormally pounded the inside of my chest when I saw Mako. He was speaking to a boy on his right, laughing at something he said while kicking up his board with the tip of his shoe.

"I may or may not have seen him here on the way to your house. Let's go say hi."

I reached out a hand to stop her, but she was already too far gone without a sound. I followed against the edge of my comfort zone-looking to the ground when we halted to a stop. Asami was pushing the envelope with her schemes.

Standing right in front of Mako, I looked up to him in a daze.

"Hey."

"Hi."

He mustered up a greeting before I had the chance, causing a lapse in conversation. When I heard an audible sigh to my right, I snapped out of our moment and came back the the current.

The boy to his right was unusually tan for this time of year, and dressed according to his appearance. He was clad in an oversized black tank top with skinny jeans cut at the knees in the same colour. When I looked over to Mako and back to him, I realised their outfits were nearly the same, save for a white graphic tee with bold lettering.

"I'm Kai. You must be the infamous Korra."

I beamed at this remark, his facial expression hinting at something I didn't know. Mako shifted back and then forward again, his eyes never leaving his counterpart.

"I am indeed. Nice to meet you. This is Asami, my best friend and part-time foe."

Asami sneered and shook Kai's hand, defending herself in the way of a small spectacle.

"And she loves it. So what are the two of you doing here?"

They looked at each other. I imagined they were trying to decide who was going to speak.

"Just trying to learn some new tricks. It's a day off, so I thought it would be a good day to spend it."

I noticed that Kai was quite the charmer, even after a few minutes after meeting him. He had his way with a special kind of confidence. The nearly polar opposite of Mako, quiet and unsure in his own nature. Kai was stopped mid-breath by another voice, coming from the side of where we all stood.

"Hey guys, I really don't know how much time I can kill just occupying myself with my phone. My battery is at twelve percent. And Tahno has texted me about seven times."

A brown mop of hair approached, face down-turned to the device in his right hand. He looked up when he stopped next to Mako, showing him the screen in case of doubt.

When I saw that face I felt something-a pull of some sort. I knew him. He must have felt the same tug looking back at me, because he said my name with an intentional conscious. Bright green eyes and a five o'clock shadow, he set me as his centre of attention.

"Bolin Rew?" **(Remember he and Mako aren't siblings!)**

I blurted and he smiled, recognition evident in his reaction. He brought me in for a hug, drawing me closer with his free hand.

"How have you been? You look amazing. All grown up now."

He stood back, ignoring the confused looks from his friends.

"Thanks. I'm great. Things are great."

Kai encroached on the moment of reunion, asking the question on everyone's mind.

"You two know each other?"

Bolin answered for the both of us, offering a torch of enlightenment to everyone else. He was very different than I remembered him. Self-assured, no longer an awkward pre-pubescent teen. And it was for the better.

"We went to the same surf camp about five or six years back. She was the best out of all of us, so I formed an alliance instead of a rivalry." He grinned, reflecting on those six weeks. "Do you still surf?"

He was angled to me, along with everyone else. Mako seemed to be the most baffled out of the bunch, his contorted in a way I had never seen before. Asami was bamboozled yet amused.

"Not really. My parents didn't approve, so I just kind of stopped."

It certainly wasn't the answer he expected, but he understood.

"Well, I'm sure you're awesome at whatever you do now."

I was thankful that he didn't of pokes and guesses as to why I stopped my beloved hobby. Going through that was like digging up a resting grave. Difficult, and seemingly pointless soon after a forced answer was retrieved.

The rest of our conversation moved from subject to subject until the catching up had been achieved, Asami making an excuse to head out.

"I have to get Blue back home before her mother begins to worry. It was good meeting all of you. Until next time."

We waved and turned our backs-the once white grey sky now a dismal dank overcast. Heading to the side of the empty street, her sentence was cut short with a voice calling my name from afar. I rotated my body to face the noise, a breathless Bolin running towards me. I did a small wave and waited for him to come near.

"I really want to catch up. Can I get your number?"

He explained how his phone died in the midst of our meeting at the ramps. So he offered me a pen. I wrote my number on his hand, laughing all the while.

"Don't sweat off the ink."

I teased him when he moved backward. He responded brazenly, taking me by surprise.

"If I do, I'll just have to find you."

He smirked before heading back to his friends, promising to text the second he charged his phone.

"Why didn't you tell me about surf camp Bolin? I am totally in the dark here."

Asami had her arms crossed, clearly annoyed at the thought that I was hiding something from her.

"I didn't think there was much to tell. I was fourteen."

I laid out the situation of that summer. The excitement that followed when I discovered that my parents wanted to send me to Australia for an exclusive surf camp, as long as they accompanied me to the far off destination. Six weeks off at the beach, crashing waves, and various instructors, I became friends with a boy called Bolin. We saw each other every day. From spending free time in the water to exploring the surroundings, we barely spent a moment apart. Feelings grew with raging hormones. So a final sunset on the beach turned into an evening of new experiences.

"So you guys made out all night and the next day you left and never saw him again?"

I shrugged, letting out a breath. "If you want to be blunt about it, than yes."

She laughed, squeezing her eyes shut while doing so. I played off her reaction as sarcastic backlash of my story.

"Hey now, that's usually how summer flings work. He was my first kiss."

Straightening up before collapsing in giggles again, she replied.

"He was your first dry hump too, but people don't usually get sentimental over that."

I pushed her to the side with my shoulder-cracking a smile at her comment.

"You are ridiculous."

She walked in step with me up the hill, the night closing in with each stride. I traced the line of the fence with the tip of my finger, the sensation strange in circumstance.

"Weirdly enough, I had fun today."

Asami raised her eyebrows, another manifestation of an expression painted on her face.

"We were at the ramps all day, and then we walked back to your house. If that's your idea of fun, I'm worried."

With a foot on the pathway leading to the door, I turned to her directly.

"It was just nice to get out. I missed this."

Asami saluted with two fingers, exiting with a final goodbye and mordant remark.

Entering the house, I watched the dunes beyond the balcony became more evident with the startling loss of light. The windows set in place told a story of what nature intended, displaying the simple poise of radiant everyday events.

Dinner came and went with no mention of my outing, my father blissfully ignorant to the shenanigans at bay. My mother and I shared a pregnant pause when a question was posed about happenings of the day. Nodding and mumbling nothing in particular, we kept each other's undisclosed deeds.

A small word at my door two hours later came as no surprise, a hand raised before a body.

"Did you have a good day?"

She closed the door behind her, making her way to have a seat on my bed beside me. I could tell she had just brushed her hair, her mane shiny even in the soft light. The long brown tresses interrupted by thick strands of grey hair added her beauty. She would always be my heroine, no matter the situation or condition.

"I did. Thank you for letting me leave."

Whispering into the night, we spoke about what happened earlier. I felt so safe. Talking to my mother like times past in my childhood. She was silent but strong. Admirable in all the right ways.

"You should invite your friends over one day. I would love meeting them all. And I'm sure your father wouldn't mind with a little convincing."

She ran a hand over my hair, smiling through what looked to be an inhale of expression.

"He's only so hard on you because he loves you. I know it doesn't seem like it, but that's the truth."

I looked at her with slanted eyes, unsure if what she said was true. I had no reply, only a dip in focus and understanding.

A hug and a good night were the last things bestowed upon before she vanished down the hall to her shared room.

Alone again, I felt lost in my own bedroom. My mind was drifting from sadness to a strange wellbeing-the feeling fleeting but always returned. A hurried vibration from my phone cut my train of thought. I turned it over and released a small smile, expectantly unaware.

 _Unknown number: I really enjoyed seeing you today. Let me know when you want to meet up again soon. I'm sure you remember I'm not really the waiting type. - Bo x_

I re-read the message, smiling to myself until a vibrant image of Mako earlier today flashed in the forefront of my mind. He had gotten quiet when the surprise reunion came about, the memory of his sloped shoulders trotting behind Kai extant in my psyche.

Maybe I had it wrong. I habitually thought about things until I couldn't, and then thought about them some more. His shy demeanor faded with my only once-its presence vacant again with his friends. The supposition of hidden meanings in events grouped more with theory than fact. I decided to let it go, for that place in time. An unflattering urge to sleep came over me-my light blown out with a final mental queue.

The pieces were beginning to re-align months after the noxious disturbance.

I could only hope it would continue.

* * *

 **Oh how the plot has thickened. I wonder what's going to happen next. ;) Anyway, thank you to all who've read and reviewed! It means a lot to me.**

 **~ Kaitlyn**


	6. Chapter 5

4 am.

The moment my mind's eye opened before my body could react—ripping me from my slumber in the manifestation of a pink and purple dusk in the west. I was vigilant, with only one thing on my mind.

The shed behind our house served many purposes over the years, but the most important to me was the main attraction. The clasp that held the lock was timeworn and rusty. It had once been strong enough to keep me from staying in the water all day, although now the terms had changed. With breaks in the marble slabs to count as windows at the tip-top of the small room, every object held a layer of dust from lack of use and care. Every surfboard I was either given or bought was stacked in the far left corner. I approached the pile and saw my favorite board, black and white slabs alternated in a geometric diamond pattern—a cyan bottom drawing most of the attention. Running my flat palm along the smooth surface instantly conveyed a recollection of times past, the waves cool and lapping against my back legs. I wanted that feeling to return. The reverberating sting of coastal cuts; water logged toes and fingers. The ocean called to me daily. Always in my head, never ceasing for even a moment. Ignoring it was my way of what I thought was moving on—growing up and out of a forever phase.

I spent the sunrise and beyond cleaning and polishing, coating each board with a fresh layer of surf wax. Even if I wasn't planning to go back in the water, my gear would be prepared when the time finally arrived.

"Korra!"

My name was called from a short distance. I discovered it was my mother beckoning me inside, waving me down with a teal kitchen towel. I opened the door to the scent of freshly cut vegetables and something sweet, a mound of fruit piled high in a large bowl.

"You've been out there for hours. I thought you might be hungry."

Brightly colored meals and plates were always my mother's preference. Everything edible had a dual purpose of being beautiful as well.

"Thanks Mum."

I was about to pluck a piece of watermelon from a plate before she said something else.

"But before you eat, can you go put the flag out front? Your father usually does it, but I couldn't catch him before he left."

I agreed, walking to the front door—which was already ajar. A collection of flags was a tradition to celebrate the various nautical seasons, as well as add an extra highlighting element to the outside of our home. The mount that held the lengthy wooden stick seemed such higher than I remembered, its location a full foot from where I stretched full out. Placing my foot on the edge between the uneven edges of planks on the railing, I elevated myself only to presumptuously lean. I knew I was going to fall. I waited for the pain, only to come in contact with a set of hands on the side of my left thigh—a voice full of surprise when I opened my eyes.

"Well, I'm glad I showed up when I did."

The look on Bolin's face was one that was one to remember. With down-turned eyes and a nervy smile, he was nearly laughing. He set me on my feet and I fixed myself, pushing my hair behind my shoulder while standing.

"That was unexpected. Thanks for catching me."

He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. "No problem. I'm glad you dropped in."

I put my head down, blushing at his cheekiness. Changing the subject, I aired my curiosity.

"I'm surprised that you're here. How did you…?"

He spoke on the extension of my last breath. After his message, I assumed he was joking when he said he couldn't wait. Now that he was at my doorstep a few days later, I found it to be true. But I wasn't exactly bothered by the fact.

"I asked around. And maybe someone in particular pointed me in the right direction. The beach house on the hill isn't too hard to find."

Asami. Of course. Even after a week she had no intentions of letting up. "Understandable."

I walked up the steps and he followed me inside, looking at the lobbied entrance of my residence. Entering the kitchen without a thought—a lurid reaction unleashed in the corner when the sight of us both was in plain view.

"Did you have any—Bolin! Oh my goodness. It's been years!"

My mother held a doe-eyed smile while hugging him and looking to us both, questioning his presence even though she knew more than half of the answer. She had always been fond of him in a way I didn't quite understand, a mystery to be solved on its own.

"I've been around this area for about six months. Just working and trying to make it in music. All of my mates and I live together in a house not too far from here."

The snippets of information I hadn't heard was tucked away in a box mentally for safekeeping while he updated her on the current. God only knew when exactly it would become of use. I tuned out the noise and zoned out, until I was brought back by a disquieted tone and an involved remark.

"I would love to help. I've had a bit of painting experience."

Bewildered and totally unaware, I questioned the last thing spoken.

"Help with…?"

I was left out of something. It was my own fault, due to my drop in interest of the general aesthetic of conversation.

"Bolin just offered to prime the basement with white paint. The crew your father hired won't be able to come through until Tuesday, so this saves a lot of time. Maybe you can even help him! It could be fun."

She smiled and I froze, confused as to how a simple colloquy of catch up turned into free service on the behalf of goodwill and charm.

"Um, sure. It is a good way to occupy a Sunday afternoon."

Smears of paint and old spattered sheets were the next thing I was thrown into, an upsurge of time passed as the basement walls slowly changed from an out of place brown to a standard white. Darker colors will always have to be painted over with equivalent or deeper paint, unless a layer of white is laid before a lighter color. The trips to hardware stores and mindless viewing of daytime television paid off after all.

"I love this song."

I plugged my phone into the speakers that had once been used for a larger sound system, but stood alone in the construction of the room. The music was originally intended to reduce the likeness of awkward silence, but it turned into an aid of mutual tastes and bonding.

"Everyone loves The Eagles. And if they don't, they lie."

He chuckled at my comment. I examined him closely for the first time since he had arrived, and I was too taken to look away. With an intentionally weathered sleeveless band tee and a red bandana—he looked like a classic rendition of a musically inclined personality. He wore it well, but I couldn't help but picture what he used to be. So awkward, inept. Until now. He was new and erogenous, and I couldn't ignore it. No matter how hard I tried.

"I like your shirt."

I broke the game of stares and stolen glances, commenting on something of his.

"Really? This is one of my favourite shirts."

He grinned, obviously pleased that one of his choices was cemented as a good one.

"You might want to be careful with the painting. That might ruin the whole grunge effect."

Although I was kidding in every way, he took my word and quickly pulled his shirt over his head. He threw it in the corner of the room in a nonchalant fashion, eyeballing me all the while.

"Good advice. I wouldn't want to spoil my edge."

With a small wink, he turned back to the unpainted corner of the wall. I silently contemplated how exactly that last interaction was real. Things like that only happen in teenage movies And stories of girls that become pretty with the removal of oval frames and a quick shakedown of the hair in a ponytail. I was in neither of which,so I was left confounded and bemused.

His back had its own design of contour and arches, curving a distinct line as he worked. It had a mesmerising effect on me - My eyes lingering and pulling away in a continuous cycle. My own reaction, the tone of my phone rang through the beat of another song.

"Oh no. I have to go to work, right now. Howl emergency."

I dropped the paint roller and rub my hands clean, heading up the stairs to leave. We had almost finished entirely in the span of two hours.

"Are you okay finishing up here on your own?"

He rotated without a thought, answering me directly.

"Yeah. Go ahead. I'll guess I'll see you later then?"

I raised myself up another step.

"Of course. I owe you one. Later."

* * *

Walking to the shop went by much faster when I thought something was aloof. I marched down the boardwalk with a tinge of worry in the end of my consciousness. Mako was the first thing I saw when my foot hit the inside floor-those gleaming eyes still the same, if not more captivating than before.

I greeted him and he gave me a tired smile in return. Figuring out the reason behind his actions would be postponed, with Howl's silhouette visible near the back of the store.

"Hey! Did you need something? I got your text and it worried me."

Howl's brows furrowed, a confused expression crossing his continence with an eventual shrug.

"I don't know what you mean. I've been texting your friend, Asami is it? She came in about 20 minutes ago and just started talking. She's...different, but a nice girl."

I was vexed with Asami's antics, this being the most direct of the bunch. She had dived in my dealings before. Little things, like name dropping or a rumour started in favour of a small fancy. But lately, she had upped her game immensely.

"Oh hey Blue. Funny that you would show up on your Sunday day off. Trying to log overtime?"

With an arm on Howl's shoulder, she appeared in the door of his office. Her face was smug with her feet crossed, one leg over the other.

"I guess so."

I was too bothered with Mako's actions to preoccupy myself with Asami. She was being her usual self, and I was too tired to react out of line.

"The shop is due to close in a few hours, so if you stay I can head home. I haven't gotten the best sleep in the past few days, and I should really catch up."

Mako and I, alone again under the circumstances of Howl and his deal. He walked forward with his head fast forward and then hung, as if something invisible was put on his shoulders the closer he got to the door.

"Lock up for me Blue. Will you?"

I nodded my head, ignoring his change in mood for the sake of time and consideration. Asami followed close behind, quickly filling out a bogus explanation for her escape.

"You can thank me later."

Soon after, I was standing right before Mako as I did previously, eyes wide and never fleeting in the height of his sound. He leaned slightly-his weight level between the counter and the rest of his upper body. With a drifting finger tracing the tip jar, a statement broke the quiet.

"I think I might go for a walk down under the pier."

It was my go to activities for the moment I saw I was losing control, or in need of fresh ocean air to clear my head. It had been overcast for the past few days despite the sun rising and falling, with the scene covered with a light mist-degrading the definition of the scene.

"What about the store?"

His expression changed so quickly I wasn't sure what he was feeling. A clear interpretation of flustered was the only reaction I could fathom.

"Howl won't notice. It's always dead on Sundays."

With tension released and 10 minutes passed, we were on our way down the dunes. The bottom of the boardwalk held a special place in my heart. The simplicity of the architecture raised my awareness of how balance is key in the wonders of the world. Wooden beams and steel pegs where the soul variables intact in such a structure. No matter how much ware time put in, it was still standing.

"So you and Bolin?"

Mako had positioned the hood of his jacket on his head, its location just behind the swirl of his fringe, standing tall. His back was against one of the poles-with a concentrated pressure in his brow. Even an all black he was far from menacing.

"No. We were only ever friends. It's just crazy that you guys are all so close. What are the odds?"

I looked up at him, and genuine with my answer.

"Yeah. The chance of that is slim."

He seemed so dejected and by a mystery variable, he was overlying something within himself.

Walking to the natural line where waves and sea collided, I resisted the undeniable to jump in. Escaping of the smallest unpleasant interactions offset me completely, and all I wanted was to restore the moment before. Seriously contemplating what was mentioned prior-I was suddenly moved from my feet and set back down in the small arches space and air. Pouring over Mako, who is now studying me, was much easier to do. His attempt at a save brought us nearly face to face.

"It looked like you were going to fall."

His hands were still clutched at my waist, eyes locked to mine as he gingerly spoke. I couldn't stop myself from thinking and wondering why. He was so simple that he rang complex. Discerning and uncertain, he operated in the mimic of a manufactured character. Emotions never hidden, only lost in the taciturnity of his demeanor.

I knew then. He was different. I had subconsciously agree to a journey of figuring him out. I wanted to break through to his world.

"But I didn't."

* * *

 _Word Count: 2,429_


	7. Chapter 6 PT 1

Taffeta and charmante littered the floor of my room before I was aware of what was afoot. Asami came in the tail end of morning—chipper and suspiciously knowing of what she was trying to pull me into. She sat me in front of my vanity, running her hands through my still wet hair. A leering smile stayed on her face when she spoke for the first time.

"That's it. I know exactly what you're going to be."

Puzzled, I looked at her in the mirror with a face that matched current state.

"What do you mean?"

Asami then reminded me of something she mentioned in passing the second day we were reunited. There was an event at the community theatre downtown, in which Asami lived to participate in. I haphazardly agreed to accompany her with her friends from her high school acting troupe, completely oblivious to what the theme was.

"Gothic Fairy tale. A classic. I want you to be Sleeping Beauty."

She put her face next to my cheek. I could see the excitement in her eyes with the entire idea of it all, her hands preoccupied soon after with the contents of her own makeup kit.

"Me? Dressing up? Really Asami?"

I turned to face her. She had brought a pile of dresses and props for what I assumed to be for costume purposes, which she was now rummaging through for something in particular.

"I know dressing up isn't really your thing Blue. But you did promise, and promises entitle all terms and conditions, whether they are known or not."

Her tone was dripping with knowing. That was a line from the spoken pact we made sophomore year of high school. I thought it would never come of use—but leave it to Asami to find a way to utilize it in her own favor.

"So what am I wearing?"

I decided to go along with her little plan. I thought it would be refreshing to do something out of the ordinary routine. Walking the same fifteen mile strip got to be a bore, and being out of the bounds of town would open up my senses to things missed in the past months of living at home.

"I have a specific idea."

* * *

Nightfall crept along the horizon before the efforts of time had caught up with my consciousness—hours comparing colors to clothing and fussing over stray hairs consuming the daylight. We were picked up from my house by a guy that went by what I assumed was the nickname JR, pronounced as two separate letters instead of its intended abbreviation. Grey makeup was expertly applied on his face and the rest of his visible skin. With dark clothing and a dribble of synthetic blood trailing down his chin, he had to a vampire.

"JR, you can't seriously think you can be a vampire for this party. It's Gothic Fairy tale, not Transylvanian nightmare."

He pulled down the hill and laughed at her comment, looking to and from the passenger seat while keeping an eye on the road.

"It's dark. That's all that matters. You should really be complaining to your friend back there. She looks harmless. Beautiful, but harmless."

I smiled but nearly scoffed at his comment. Asami had put me in a gown that was nearly white, with a slight undertone that hinted at an extremely pale blush. With a royal blue cloak and small braids with flowers tucked around the crown of my head and throughout the rest of my jet black hair, I really did look like I stepped out of Grimm's Fairy Tales. We reasoned about the logic behind me going as a character with famously blond hair and porcelain skin, but Asami's reply was the same with each of my detests. She repeated it once again in the middle of my explanation.

"Not all of us can be half Native American and perfectly ethnically ambiguous like you Blue. I think Aurora suits you because it seems all you do is sleep these days. And work, but that's beside the point."

Sighing at her brooding over my heritage, I sunk further into the backseat. Asami had a knack for making her evidence known whenever she was right, no matter the occasion. She shifted in her own costume—a dark, decayed rendition of Red Riding Hood. With black lips and a flash of red on her nails and eyes, she looked the part. I was the polar opposite, light and lacy with a touch of innocence dripping from the tails of my cape. I had an inkling of a feeling that she paralleled out garbs for a reason. I just didn't have a theory for why as of yet.

When we finally arrived at the theater, the scene on the street was one that was not to be forgotten. Dramatically costumed individuals entered from the street left and right, with Maleficent, Cinderella, Rapunzel, and Snow White among them. Asami fit right in with the darkness of it all. I stuck out like a bright light in an overall gloomy setting—drawing a new kind of self-conscious edge deep within me.

Stepping inside the playhouse was close to transferring to a different world entirely. Curving black tree trunks with equally undulating leafless branches lined the entryway, with the smoke of dry ice and green dramatic lighting setting the mood to the main floor. The array of people and food was in line with the theme, crimson apples and bubbling caldrons as the focal point of the soiree. Asami headed to the back of the building, away from the stage and towards a dim red corner. A few people were sitting on an over-cramped couch and a wooden bench. Drinking out a shared flask, each of their heads turned when they caught sight of Asami pulling my arm. Like a well-oiled machine, one looked when one stopped.

"Sorry I'm late. JR drives at the pace of a 65-year-old man. This is Blue. Some of you will remember her, others might not."

Four guys and two girls pondered silently to themselves while I was introduced in an awkward fashion.

"Oh yeah. I remember her. She was the weird surfer girl, right?"

I tried to take the comment lightly, adding my own commentary to agree with the girl who had just spoken.

"Weird ex-surfer girl. I'm just home from university."

Her face only deepened with dismay, a smaller comment thrown out before the focus was moved to something else.

I sat awkwardly to the side for the better part of two hours, only taking breaks to survey the area or get something that resembled a snack. I wasn't upset. Just the feeling of intentionally being gated out of something plagued me with a deep awkwardness. Before I knew it, I was leaning heavy-eyed into the cushion of the couch I sat on alone. Realising how tired I was, I succumbed to the wants of my body. Asami was busy, and nothing could stop me from resting. Even for a little while.

* * *

 _Color and its concentration. Alternating, finding sanction within each other while I stood barely there in the dark. Thumping walls due to music at an earsplitting volume shook around a throng of sweaty, drunken bodies, some moving more than others. My head felt as if it was full of lead, swaying back and forth between the arms that guided me. Beer and smoke filled my nostrils with a special kind of sickness—my stomach jumping at any opportunity to be free. Voices around me came and went. Every word was inaudible, but I somehow knew they referred to me. My feet were no longer touching the ground. I was floating with the help of near-death and all his friends. Upward; forward. I was being hand delivered to my twist in fate._

* * *

 ** _So this is gonna be on hiatus for a while. Also, the next part is going to be the last chapter. I have a new story coming soon though! Review!_**


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